


Let Me Feel Your Skin

by plaidcest



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Smut, Top!Sam, bottom!Dean, dom!sam (ish?), wincest smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-07
Updated: 2013-11-07
Packaged: 2017-12-31 18:19:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1034879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plaidcest/pseuds/plaidcest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You should not be allowed to say things like that. I am putting a ban on it." Dean manages croakily and Sam grins as he takes slow deliberate steps and forces Dean to walk slowly backward till his back reaches the cold, hard, motel wall. </p><p>	Sam crowds in easily, one leg sliding between Dean's and his thigh pressing to Dean's crotch. His hands pulling Dean's shirt off easily before he let's his hands slide up Dean's sides till they rest on the wall on either side of Dean's head. He leans his face right in, keeping his eyes open as he licks his lips teasingly and watched Dean's eyes follow the movement. </p><p>	"You gonna ban me from sucking your cock as well, big brother?" Sam puts emphasis on the last two words and Dean whines in the back of his throat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Feel Your Skin

            Sam walks into their motel, Dean following at a leisurely, unsuspecting pace. Sam turns his head slightly to the left, the door clicks shut and Sam drops his bags to the floor beside the closest bed. He slips of his coat and sweater, dropping them on top of his discarded bags.

            Dean throws his bag on the other bed, pulling the salt out and he walks around the room, sprinkling even amounts on all the window sills and in a quarter circle around the door so they can open it without breaking the line. Sam's lips curl into the smallest of smirks as he toes off his boots, his socks following quickly after.

            Dean's got no idea.

            Sam turns slowly and quietly, his bare feet making no sound against the dark brown carpet. He walks up behind Dean as Dean finally puts the salt down on the table. Dean shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over the back of a chair beside the table. Sam makes his move, his hands slipping around to Dean's stomach and folding under his shirt, his index fingers curling under the waistband of Dean's jeans.

            Dean makes a noise of surprise and goes to turn around but Sam pulls him in close. Dean's back flush with Sam's broad chest. Sam leans down just slightly and noses along Dean's ear, his mouth open and breathing warm hot air against his brother's ear. Sam's lips brush the lobe of Dean's ear and Dean sucks in a breath.

            Sam places a small kiss to the spot where Dean's jaw meets his neck and Dean's back arches by a minuscule amount. Sam let's Dean go, turning him so that they're chest to chest. He glares at Dean's shirt and over shirt, too many clothes.

            Sam slips his hands under Dean's over-shirt, latching his lips back onto Dean's neck and biting little areas that cause Dean to release needy noises.  Dean's hands come up to Sam's shoulders and he latches his fingers into the soft hair and tugs, trying to get their lips attached.

            Sam pulls back and grins wolfishly down at Dean "Patience, big brother." He says huskily and Dean's body shivers, his breath catching. He glares as Sam slides the plaid shirt off his shoulders.

            "You should not be allowed to say things like that. I am putting a ban on it." Dean manages croakily and Sam grins as he takes slow deliberate steps and forces Dean to walk slowly backward till his back reaches the cold, hard, motel wall.

            Sam crowds in easily, one leg sliding between Dean's and his thigh pressing to Dean's crotch. His hands pulling Dean's shirt off easily before he let's his hands slide up Dean's sides till they rest on the wall on either side of Dean's head. He leans his face right in, keeping his eyes open as he licks his lips teasingly and watched Dean's eyes follow the movement.

            "You gonna ban me from sucking your cock as well, _big brother_?" Sam puts emphasis on the last two words and Dean whines in the back of his throat.

            "Shirt. Off. Now." Dean manages and Sam follows obligingly; all too eager to have the skin to skin contact. He finally leans in and one of his hands slips from the wall to the back of Dean's neck, the other sliding down and spreading with splayed fingers across the small of Dean's back. He pulls Dean closer, taking languid control of the kiss. Dean's hands fall between them and his fingers manage to undo Sam's belt and the zipper of his jeans before Sam notices.

            Sam gives no warning, his hands grab Dean's around the wrists and he slams them up above Dean's head and against the wall. He raises an eyebrow at Dean who struggles against the hold. Sam leans forward and bites at the underside of Dean's bicep, which earns him a gasp and no more struggling.

            "Patience. _Big brother_."

            Dean groans and his head falls to the side, his nose burrowing into his Sam shackled arm. "You and your patience."

            Sam grins and transfers both of Dean's wrists into the hold of one hand. He begins attacking the exposed line of throat Dean had left open and vulnerable, his hand dropping to Dean's belt and undoing it with agonizing slowness.

            Dean's muscles quiver in anticipation and need and he knows how much Sam loves to hear him, loves every noise he makes, so he bites his lips and stays silent in retaliation. His resistance wavers when Sam licks hot and slow up the side of his neck and pulls on his ear with his teeth. Dean's mouth instinctively opens and half a sound is released before he remembers his opposition and he chokes it off with barely there control.

            Sam smirks against his ear. "C'mon Dean. I know," Sam's nose brushes Dean's ear and he lowers his voice to a silky whisper "you and I know when you're holding back... I love listening to the little needy noises, and half formed breaths you release. I love it when you groan and scream and sigh my name, or when you’re so far gone that all you can do is whimper. Let me hear you. Little brother wants to hear you scream."

            “Sam _please_ , I need…. I can’t…” Dean’s voice is wrecked and desperate, his back arching as he struggles to free his hands, Sam bites his neck in retaliation and Dean completely drops the resistance act and his head lolls to the side, his mouth open as he whines in the back of his throat. He wants to touch, wants to feel the twitch in Sam’s muscles as he moves, wants to feel the sinuous slide of tendons and searing hot skin under his calloused and scarred fingertips.  

            “Sam please… What, Dean? What do you need?” Sam raises an eyebrow at his brother, his fingertips tracing feather light paths up from Dean’s jeans, up his stomach, over his chest, and up his neck. His fingers slide easily around the back of Dean’s head, grabbing the shorter hairs at the nape of Dean’s neck and tugging till Dean was facing him. Dean’s bright green eyes were shinning with unspoken pleads, the pupil’s dilated and leaving only a thin ring of green.

            They were bathed in deep reds, purples, pinks, and oranges from the sunset outside the windows shinning in on them, and Sam simply looked at Dean. His fingers leaving the nape of his older brother’s neck and trailing up his jaw, over his freckled cheekbones and down the slope of his nose. His fingers slowed their trip and rested over slightly swollen lips. Sam blinked, his head tilting to the side, as Dean’s warm breath billowed under his fingertips. Dean stared back a moment before his tongue darted out to lick across the pads of Sam’s digits and there was a sharp intake of breathe from the taller of the two.

            “…you.” Dean whispered his eyes wide and focused with a crystal quality on Sam. Sam’s lips smoothed into a grin.

            “Well I believe that’s something I can give you… As if you haven’t always had me.” Sam released Dean’s hands and he pulled Dean into another languid kiss. Dean’s arms dropped from their hold and fell between the two of them, latching onto Sam’s biceps with bruising strength and holding on as if Sam was about to run away.

            Sam’s hands left Dean’s face and unzipped his jeans, to which Dean toed off his boots and then kicked off his socks and jeans together. They pulled apart for air and Dean looked to Sam for permission, which he was granted (when could Sam ever say no to Dean?), before finishing his earlier job.

            “ _Jesus_ Sam. Commando, really?” Sam simply grinned and kicked his pants away, they flew across the room and landed somewhere to his right but he wasn’t paying attention, too focused on the task at hand. He flipped their position, latching back onto the almost completely naked Dean and kissing him hungrily, letting some desperation leak into what he’d been fighting to keep as slow and sensual as possible. They had time.

            He walked Dean back again, though Dean hadn’t seemed to have noticed they were even moving because soon enough he was falling backward onto Sam’s empty bed and staring up at his brother, his chest heaving to get some much needed oxygen. Sam stood for a moment, admiring again and Dean wiggled out of his boxers before crooking a finger up at him.

            Sam followed the silent order, leaning over and crowding Dean easily all over again. The scratchy comforter rubbed annoyingly against Dean’s back and he grimaced for a second before Sam pressed most of his weight down on top of him. Sam wasn’t squishing him but he was making it harder to move, which didn’t turn out to be a problem when Dean’s back arched and their cocks rubbed against each other. Dean hissed, finally sort of relief, but Sam reached down and pushed against his stomach, keeping him from moving his hips again. He whined, not at all ashamed of the noise, because he wasn’t ashamed of needing his brother.

            Sam leaned in close, nosing at his brother’s neck for a moment before attaching his lips to Dean’s collar bone and biting a mark into the highly visible area. Dean’s needy whimpers were cut off his a curse and his hands came up to claw at Sam’s shoulders, the blunt nails digging into his muscle and pulling their bodies in closer till they were completely lined up against each other. No air was between them, and Dean’s head fell back, exposing more of his tanned, salty neck and Sam hummed against the sensitive area, making Dean breathlessly chuckle. 

            “Okay. Obviously patience is a virtue you hold highly there, Sammy. But I’m no saint, and if you don’t do something I’m going to---” Sam reached down; cutting Dean’s words off as he wrapped his fingers tightly around Dean’s straining cock. Dean choked on a throat moan and Sam pulled away from his large bruises on Dean’s neck to smirk down at his brother. He tipped his head to the side and raised an eyebrow, something that always made Dean groan.

            “What were you saying Dean?” Sam’s voice was innocently-sweet and Dean groaned, his hands tightening on Sam’s back. Sam moved his thumb slowly over the head of Dean’s cock and Dean’s whole body shuddered, the muscles rippling against Sam’s body and Sam leaned down to kiss Dean.

            Kissing Dean was something he could never get tired of. Didn’t matter if it was hot, messy, frantic kisses or slow, languid, sensual kisses. Any kind of intimate contact sent a thrill through him. He could make Dean come apart with a few touches, a few words. He could make him cum without even touching him, simply whispering to him would be enough. It was a heady kind of power, and Sam reveled in it.

            Dean was always the one in charge on hunts, the one most people assumed was in charge because he walked in front, he guarded Sam, he protected Sam. But Sam knew better, Dean may be older but he’s most definitely not the one in charge.

            With Dean in front of Sam, always looking like he was taking charge, it gave Sam this unspoken permission to what he wanted. He could check Dean out, his hips moving purposefully in a smooth and confident walk, his broad shoulders and pretty face attracting the attention of many eyes. He could reach out and leave his hand on the small of Dean’s back as they spoke to a witness, or he could even slip a finger between Dean’s skin and his pants. He could reach around Dean when no one was around and wrap his arms around Dean’s stomach, lean his head on his shoulder, and just revel in the fact that he was the only one allowed to hold his brother like that. That Dean trusted him to have his back, to cover his weakest point.

            Here with Dean under him arching his back and Sam’s name being whispered from breathless lungs, here he was in charge. And they both damn well knew it. Sam’s fingers tightened on Dean’s cock and he twisted his hand just slightly, flicking his thumb over the head once more and Dean’s back arched. His brows furrowed and his mouth open in breathless pants. Sam spent a few more moments giving Dean a lazy hand job, watching Dean’s face more than what he was doing. God Dean was beautiful, and his. All his.

            Sam let go of Dean’s cock and brought their lips together again before Dean could make a noise in protest, grinding his hips down against Dean’s a few times before abruptly rolling off Dean and the bed. Dean whimpered and Sam ran his fingers through Dean’s hair for a moment before going and digging in his bag for the tube of lube he’d seen Dean pack in one of the side pockets.

            “Jesus could you take any longer? I’m not getting any younger over here.” Dean managed, the sentence coming in pieces and Sam rolled his eyes before standing up with the lube and walking around to slap one of Dean’s thighs. Dean’s cock twitched and he groaned, sitting up and pulling Sam hastily back down onto the bed. Dean latched their lips together; all pretense of the slow night Sam had planned almost completely slipping out the window when Dean wrapped a hand around the both of them. Sam indulged in the feeling off Dean’s calloused hands for a few moments, his body vibrating with want, but soon enough he knocked Dean’s hand away and pushed Dean back against the pillows.

            He nudged Dean’s knees wider, kissing him while popping the cap open and squirting a generous amount on his fingers. He rubbed his fingers together, spreading the lube and heating it slightly. He didn’t give Dean any warning, though Dean never cared so long as they ‘got the show rolling’. He pushed one finger past the tight muscle and Dean just pulled him closer, their lips fighting with each other and Dean hungrily pulling at Sam’s bottom lip with his teeth. Sam moaned and chased after Dean’s mouth when Dean finally let his lip go.

            It took only a few minutes before Sam added in another finger and then another. It never took long to stretch Dean considering they fucked basically everyday, but it had been a few days and Sam always loved how desperate Dean was to have any piece of Sam in him, and how enthusiastic he was when Sam was finger fucking him. 

            “ _Sammy…_ Sammy _please.”_

            Dean’s voice was completely wrecked, his hands out to his sides, clutching the sheets tightly in an iron fist. They’d managed to kick most of the comforter to the bottom half of the bed in the tangle of their limbs. Sam had been kissing across his chest and stomach, his unoccupied hand holding onto one of Dean’s legs and the fingers kneading the muscle gently.

            Sam was tempted to simply ignore Dean’s request, but his cock was aching and all he could think about was being inside Dean, feeling Dean lose himself around him. He pulled his fingers out and Dean grimaced at the loss, but it wasn’t too long before Sam had his cock covered in lube and was lining himself up to Dean’s entrance.

            He slid in slowly, holding Dean’s hands down so he couldn’t try and pull Sam in faster. Dean hated it when Sam went slowly, drew things out and teased the living fuck out of him. So Sam tried to do it as frequently as possible, naturally. Sam held his breath as he finally bottomed out and he stayed still, staring down at Dean whose eyes were closed and his face scrunched up in a mix of pleasure and concentration. Dean impatiently slapped at his chest.

            “Damnit MOVE.” He growled and Sam leaned down to kiss him quickly before following the simple orders. He pulled agonizingly slowly out before pivoting his hips and slamming back into Dean at just the right angle to hit Dean’s prostate on the first try. Dean moaned, his legs coming around and his ankles hooking around each other behind Sam’s back. No matter how slow Sam tried to be at this part, it never worked out. The noises Dean made… They drove Sam crazy; he needed to hear more of them. Needed to hear Dean beg for him to go faster, needed to watch him unravel underneath him.

            Sam shot his hips forward, pulling back slowly before repeating the process again, moving his hips at just the angle to get these deep moans to reverberate from deep within Dean’s throat, his chest vibrating against Sam’s. They were both slick with sweat, Dean’s pre-cum a slight glossy spot on Sam’s stomach. Sam reached out with one hand, latching it to Dean’s and holding it beside Dean’s head, his other hand holding him up.

            He leaned down and whispered Dean’s name endlessly against his love bite peppered throat. Dean’s free hand slithered down and grabbed at his cock, Dean’s head falling back as he moved his hand and hips in time with Sam’s thrusts. Three pumps later and Dean was coming all over his hand and Sam’s stomach and his body involuntarily tightened around Sam. Dean’s legs pulling him closer, his fingers holding on to Sam’s hand that much tighter and Sam’s rhythm faltered for a moment before he was coming inside his older brother, his head buried in Dean’s neck.

            He smelt like gunpowder and the strong, rich smell of decaying leaves, of autumn, leather, salt, and the fresh smell of Sam’s cologne. Sam listened to Dean’s breathing, waiting a few moments until Dean unwrapped his legs from around him. He pulled out slowly, falling beside his brother and pulling him close, uncaring of the mess of lube and come and simply burying his nose in Dean’s hair.

            Dean complained for a moment, trying to get up to go wash up but Sam just latched on tighter. “You owe me a shower blow job later, bitch.” Dean mumbled against Sam’s chest and Sam laughed, kissing Dean’s temple.

            “Whatever you say, jerk.” The name fell fondly from his lips and he leaned down to kiss Dean slowly and smoothly, his body felt boneless, his muscles almost the consistency of jelly. Dean eagerly kissed him back, as always

**Author's Note:**

> Cassbutt look what you've made me become. I write smut now, what even.


End file.
